Metamorphosis
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: Tags to the episode of the same name. Mild wincest warning for first chapter, more than mild for second.
1. You Were Gone

Sam: "You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you..."

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Sam almost stopped what he was saying, hating the desperation that sounded in his voice, the raw need for his brother to be constantly at his side.

Dean seemed to get it, because comprehension slipped across his eyes fro a second before the anger at Sam not telling him that he was using his powers once again settled on his face.

Sam mentally flinched. He didn't want Dean hating him, didn't want him angry for lying to him, he wanted him to understand, to know what it was like to be left alone.

He felt so selfish saying it, knowing his brother had been in Hell, but God dammit he had needed him in more ways than he wanted to admit. He had been pissed that Dean had waited so long to ask for help. That anger had spurned him on, making him call on Ruby who had crawled her way back from Hell to help Sam.

He'd had to do something, anything, to take away the pain. He did what he did to survive. Without Dean.


	2. A Whole New Level Of Freak

More than MILD WINCEST...

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Sam: "You have no idea what I'm going through."

Dean: "Well then enlighten me."

Sam: "I've got demon blood in me, Dean. This disease pumping through my veins and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean. I'm a whole new level of freak."

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Dean resisted the urge to reach for his brother, and cursed the numerous times he'd called him a freak, wishing he could take them all back, because the look on Sam's face was heartbreaking. Even if he was trying to mask it with anger.

"You're not a freak." He muttered, almost hoping that Sam wouldn't hear, later when they were driving…anywhere.

"Yes I am." He replied, staring out of the window. Dean was suddenly struck with the reality that they weren't pissing each other off right now, Sam wasn't snapping back at his stupid "you're a freak" comments. He was being genuinely serious.

He jerked the wheel, sending the Impala on to the hard shoulder, for the second time that day. This time it hadn't been Sam demanding he stop the car.

"What the hell, Dean?" He asked and the car ground to a halt, before the last bits of gravel had stopped pinging beneath the car.

"Dammit Sammy. You aren't a freak." Dean almost shouted, dragging a hand through his short hair and looking at his younger brother. Sam avoided the look, and didn't that just pissed Dean off even more. He was out of the car and stalking round the hood before he even knew what he was doing.

Sam seemed surprised, probably because he was, when Dean wrenched the door open and dragged Sam out of the car, slamming him hard against the side. The air left Sam's lung in a rush.

Sam struggled against Dean's almost relentless grip on his arms.

"Jesus Dean, what the hell?" He said, shrugging his brothers hands off him, knowing that he was going to have two Dean Hand shaped bruises on his arms come morning.

"You aren't a freak Sammy, you're a Winchester, dammit." Dean seemed so angry he could hardly speak, and Sam wondered if he was angry with him, or the situation.

"Doesn't that make me a freak anyway, Dean?" Sam asked, sarcasm lacing his voice. Dean pushed him again, hard against the car.

He tried to ignore the way Sam's eyes grew wide as Dean's thigh slipped in between his. He tried to ignore the way that Sammy almost rocked into him.

"Dean…" Sam began, his voice low.

He pushed himself away from Sam, ignoring the familiar heavily feeling in his stomach. If anyone was the freak in this family, it was Dean. He pushed his little brother up against his beloved Impala and had wanted to kiss all the troubles away. And wasn't that just a whole new level of freak.


	3. Not Alone

Sam: "It's just something I got to deal with."

Dean: "Not alone."

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Sam had been in the bathroom for hours. Probably hiding from him, because he could still feel the anger at Sam rolling off him in waves, and if he could feel it, there was no doubt that Sam could feel it too. Because was always better at picking up emotions than Dean anyway.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, making it stick up at different angle. He was trying to put it back in place when Sam emerged. He let out a small laugh at the vanity of his brother and Dean scowled, goodnaturedly.

Towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping down his well tone chest, Sam walked around the motel room, picking up strewn clothing. He pulled a T-Shirt over his head and pulled his laptop out, setting it on the table in the corner of the room.

Dean sat down on his bed.

"I meant what I said, you know that, right?" He said. Sam looked sharply at him, his brown eyes full of questions, but for once he didn't say anything.

"About not having to deal alone." Dean continued.

"I know man." Sam replied, quietly, his fingers poised over the keyboard. He didn't look at Dean.

"Seriously." Dean reiterated the point and got the feeling that for once, Sam was going to get pissed at the talking, not Dean.

"I _know_, Dean. Can we just drop it?" He asked, running a hand through his wet hair, pushing it off his forehead.

"No…we can't. Because every damn time _I_ say can we drop it, you don't. So suck it up buddy, we're not dropping it." Dean stood up and stalked towards Sam. He looked up from his laptop screen and stared at his brother like he had gone crazy.

Suddenly his face broke out into a brilliant smile, like one he hadn't seen for far too long, and Dean could do nothing except smile back.

"I get it, Dean. I do." The smile faltered fro a second. "But can we just forget it, for tonight? Just pretend to be…" He stopped, knowing Dean's hatred of the word normal.

"Normal?" Dean offered, still smiling down at his brother. Sam nodded once. "Sure."

Sam smiled again and Dean wondered why he didn't make Sam smile more often. He threw a pair of jeans at his younger brother's head.

"Get dressed buddy, lets go get drunk and pick up girls." He reached the door just as Sam's amused laughed echoed around the room. He made a mental note to make Sam laugh more often too.


	4. Its A Sickness

Dean: "Sam loves research. He does. He keeps it under his mattress, right next to his KY. It's a sickness, it is."

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"It's a sickness?" Sam asked as they pulled into the Motel parking lot after talking to Travis.

Dean gave him a look, halfway between amusement and actual disgust.

"It is dude, seriously." Dean said before slipping out of the car and slamming the door. He leered at a couple of girls that giggled passed. Sam rolled his eyes, he never understood the way woman were reduced to simpering fools around his brother. Dean gave them a gentle wave before turning back around to Sam.

"You see? The sickness is stopping you from getting chicks...I am the only one who can cure you." Dean said in mock seriousness.

"Seriously Dude…its not funny anymore." Dean pushed himself off the Impala and walked towards the motel room, Sam trailing behind, something akin to whining in his voice. Dean hid a smile. It was good to joke with his brother. He was still mad, but he hated not talking to Sam, even if Sam was just whining at him.

"It never was Sammy…this is tragic. You could die from this." Dean place a hand on Sam shoulder.

Sam scoffed.

"You're gonna die if you don't shut up." Sam said, grabbing the motel room keys out of his hand and shoving them into the hole in the door.

"Oh you think you could take me?" Dean taunted pushing the door open and walking in. Sam rolled his eyes again and Dean could practically _hear_ it. "Jesus Sam, you really perfected that eye roll."

"Yeah well, being on the road for 3 years with you gives me lots of practice." He replied. Dean didn't even bother to turn around.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."


End file.
